


Need You

by Jamaican Princess (Rocquellan)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Bottom Sam, M/M, Rimming, older!sam, younger!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:12:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocquellan/pseuds/Jamaican%20Princess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean might be younger, but he knows exactly what he wants and what he wants is his older brother, Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need You

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for a prompt on the spnkinkmeme.  
> REQUEST: younger!Dean/Older!sam, submissive bottom!Sam  
> Whatever age/circumstances is fine. I just want wee, Dean topping huge Sam.
> 
> Not a perfect fit, but I hope the prompter likes! Dean-16/Sam-20

Dean enters the motel room at two in the morning, a good buzz thrumming through his system. Dad’s been gone two days now and the bar down the block is just what he needed. There’s no hunt and there’s only so much of being cooped up he could take.

The place is completely dark and quiet, not that if fools him. Sam...overgrown sasquatch that he is, is definitely _not_ sleeping. Dean knows his brother’s tells, knows how deep or shallow his breathing gets once he’s really out cold, knows he’s been waiting up for him even though he told him not to.

Dean crosses the salt line, pockets his keys with a jangle and then close the door behind him. The car keys are thrown on the night stand, in case Sam will need it. Sam’s been driving longer, but Dean’s got complete control of baby. The fact that he not too long got a legal driver’s licence be damned.

He knows Sammy’s waiting on him to do or say something, but he drops his jacket and heads to the bathroom to wash up. Anything to avoid the impending chick flick a little longer. He turns on the bathroom light, washes up and brushes his teeth. No need to flaunt the night’s escapades in Sam’s face. No matter how much his older brother says he’s cool with Dean _being_ young, doing teenage shit, he knows better. Sam will make him feel like shit with a look for pissing in the grass _on the highway_.

So, when Dean emerges, he leaves the bathroom door open so the harsh light can shine across the beds, illuminating Sam with his back to him and the sheets pulled up to his head.

Dean sighs. Sam’s pissed. He closes the door, crawls over to Sam’s bed, pulls the sheet down and plop down beside his overgrown brother. “I know you’re not sleeping, Sammy.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, then a tired sigh. “Why do you care?”

Dean matches that sigh with one of his own before he throws an arm across Sam’s middle, spooning up behind him. For all that Sammy’s bigger, broader, supposedly stronger, he’s the one that fits into Dean perfectly. He kisses his brother’s shoulder lightly. “Just because.”

Sam moves away and Dean groans at the loss of contact. Light from the lamp suddenly swamps the room in a soft glow and Dean glares before he eyes Sam annoyed.

Sam’s eyes are angry when they look down on him, his tousled hair like a sexy version of his usual bedhead. “Just because? Dean, you went to a bar! For _six hours_ , you’re just sixteen! I was _worried_.”

Dean’s eyes soften. “Yeah, dick move, Sammy. Now come here.” He reaches for his brother; older, not necessarily wiser in some respect, sexy as hell, makes him forget all about the older woman with the huge racks clinging on to him all night and come back home; to Sam.

Sam pulls away. “How many took you home?”

Dean smiles lightly, only because Sam can’t see with his back to him. Jealous is an amazing look on Sam. “Minus Zero.”

Sam’s glare is baleful when he pins Dean with a sharp glare. “I could smell the perfume when you came through the door.”

Dean shrugs, pleased. “Couldn’t stop them from draping all over me. Didn’t sleep with anybody though.”

Dean sees the anxiety slowly drains from Sam’s shoulder. At twenty, you’d think Sammy is the sixteen year old.

“Seriously?”

Dean doesn’t say anything. Just walks over to his sasquash of a brother, pull him close before drawing him down into a hungry kiss. He’s already hard.

Sam falls into it, into step, until he’s pushing Dean back. It’s moment like these Dean’s irritated Sammy’s got the mass advantage. It’s makes it too easy for Sam to get away when all he wants to do is hold on to him and never let him go. Fight him close.

“No, don’t.” Sam walks away, clear across the room, rubbing at his lips with his eyes focused out the single window, fingers pulling back the blind slightly.

Dean’s bitter. “Still angsting over getting fucked by me?”

Sam’s entire body goes rigid.

Dean pads over, pulls gently on Sam’s shoulders until he can plant a soft kiss on his neck. “Or are you angsting because you like it so much.”

Sam tries to pull away again. Dean doesn’t let him.

“If dad find’s out...” Sam trails off.

One of Dean’s hands work it’s way under his shirt, the other down his pants while he breaths in the scent of Sammy; something so soft and primal it’s too addictive to be normal. “He won’t.”

Sam tries to twist away when Dean finally gets a grip of his hard half cock, biting off a whimper that shoots straight to Dean’s dick.

“If he does...I’m...”

There’s fear in Sam’s voice. Dean doesn’t say anything because he knows. _If_ their dad was ever to find out, Sam would get the blame because he’s older, _should fucking know better, John’s voice cuts like a serrated knife._ Dean puts it out of his head. “I can’t stop...” And he breathes softly in Sam’s ear, trails his tongue over the shell of said ear before sucking lightly at the pulse point in his neck.

“Dean...” Sam breathes, angling his neck for more of his little brother’s tongue and pushing into his talented fingers.

“I can’t let you go, Sammy, no matter what anybody says.”

Sam whimpers and Dean’s sixteen year old libido rages like a fire dragon inside him. He shouldn’t feel so frigging hot from being able to bring his older brother to his knees with just a touch or a word. Should never become so addicted to nestling himself fully in that sweet, tight ass. Should never become so addicted to anything, period.

Especially not to his older brother.

It feels worse than a severed limb whenever Sam’s in danger, when the bad guys knows exactly how to hurt Dean. When ghosts and ghoulies and baddies think Sam’s the perfect plaything or target. And these thoughts only make Dean hold Sam tighter, become more aggressive, want to fuck him so bad he’s too tired to walk into danger.

“Hold still,” Dean growls after he pushes Sam into the wall, pressing up and biting into his neck.

“Dean,” Sam whimpers and Dean grinds his hard on against his jeans covered ass, touching and kissing every inch of available skin while he fervently strips Sammy of offending clothing.

“Can’t get enough of you,” Dean grunts while he undoes his own belt, tastes Sam’s skin; love how much there is to worship. “Gonna suck you, Sammy. Eat you out, and then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you can’t tell up from down.”

“Dean!” Sam’s voice is equal part wrecked and equal part chiding, like Dean doesn’t know he secretly enjoys the dirty talk.

“I’ll fuck you on your head, Sammy.” Dean’s feral, too far gone. Sammy’ pliant and willing and he manhandles him over to the bed, shoves him on his back and pull his legs up to expose his ass.

“Dean, I don’t think...”

Sam’s voice trail off into a strangled moan when Dean drops to his knees and uses tongue, stiff and wet on his hole.

“Jesus, Dean!” Sam shouts while looking down at him, hazel/green eyes blown wide. Dean stiffens his tongue, jabs harder and taste Sam fuller. His brother’s legs are trembling.

“Dean, please...” Sam begs.

“Ok, Sammy. Ok,” Dean murmurs, purrs. He knows exactly what Sam is begging for. His erection, hot and heavy and dripping is stiff against his belly. He sucks it into his mouth quickly and Sam kicks out, wrapping his long legs around his neck, forcing him to stay there.

The sounds Sam makes is sinfully hot. He’s so damn sensitive.

“Dean, you can’t do this t-to me...” Sam swallows audibly. “...you can’t, it’s not...”

Dean suddenly pulls up, angry lines on his faces when he’s looking into Sam’s eyes from an inch away, their breaths mingling and his fingers digging painfully into Sam’s arm. “Say it’s not right Sammy and I’ll kick your ass so hard you won’t believe.”

Sam swallows, cowers under the weight of his gaze and Dean smirks. “No matter what you think,” he bites Sam’s bottom lip softly before sucking on it, “...you want it...” he starts jerking his big brother off “...and so do I.”

Sam opens his legs wider to accommodate Dean, releasing a soft, “I know,” between kisses.

Dean moves Sam’s legs and nestles himself in between, rubbing the leaking head over Sam’s tight pucker while he sucks on a nipple. “There’s nothing conventional about this, I know, but we aren’t conventional people, are we, Sammy?” 

Sam shakes his head, bangs falling into his eyes. “No, we aren’t.”

“And you love this, don’t you?” Dean kisses a trail up to those sinful lips. “You love me...Sammy.”

Sam’s a whimpering mess under him, a sasquatch size whimpering mess and Dean uses his own precum as lube, pushing softly against the tight ring of muscle, loving the flitting emotions over Sam’s face when he breaches the ring. There’s just so much of Sam, so much to covet and it’s a heady feeling, like the highest of highs.

“Yeah, Dean, I do.” Sam’s voice is strained with emotions, wrecked with lust and his huge hands are on Dean, everywhere they can reach, encompassing him because he’s smaller, more breakable in Sam’s eyes, which is so far from the truth it makes Dean laughs sometimes. But not now, not when Sam’s touch his like the hottest fire and his ass is so tight it’s like a vacuum of everything right. Not when he can roll Sam flat on his back and push his long legs up, kiss his toes and fuck him so sweet and slow until their both locked tightly in the bubble of their coupling. There’s soft words and softer touches, like lovers. Nothing like the few random fucks Dean picked up before Sammy, the random fucks that made him realize there should be more. More of everything. Never enough. Not until he crossed that line with his Sammy. Four years older in body, four years younger in mind.

“I’m gonna...” Sam cries, because he’s never still, constantly moving and he’s the same in bed, always writhing on Dean’s dick; grinding and shifting, angling for more.

“Yeah, Sammy. So fucking hot and tight. Love this, love you. Open up to me, Sammy,” Dean grunts between kisses, feeling close himself. He wants to drill into Sam, plow his ass so hard but there’s an ethereal draw to the bump and grind, the slow burn as Sam cant’s his hips, begging for more while he fists the sheets and throw his head back.

Dean’s not small by a long shot despite their age difference and he loves the sight of Sam open around him, greedily sucking him in, balls drawing up when his prostate’s hit so much it gets to be too much. He knows the tells, when Sam’s about to blow, when his skins so fever hot it’s coated in a light of sheen of sweat. When the words and sounds, so artful, becomes frantic. 

When Dean, the smaller one, is the anchor.

“Dean, Dean, Dean...” Sam repeats like a reverent prayer, eyes rolled back in his head.

“Oh fuck, Jesus fuck, Sammy!” Dean shouts and they both come, him in Sam’s ass while his grip is extra tight around Sam’s dick, pulling him orgasm from him in jerks and waves.

“You’re amazing as usual, Sammy,” Dean grunts after rolling to the side, noticing the wince when he pulls out of Sam.

“Uhhh, thanks.”

Sam immediately heads to the bathroom and Dean watches him go, knows no matter what emo thoughts or self depreciating bullshit is going through Sammy’s head, he’ll always be there for him; they’ll be there for each other. 

That’s all that really matters.


End file.
